hdhstory.net

The Secret Garden

Adapted from my memories of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

I have a secret garden. It covers lots of ground.

There should be lots of flowers. But weeds grow all around.

I have no time to tend it. I’ve left it way too long.

Now I’m too sick to go there. You see, I’m not that strong.

There is a wall around it. A lock that’s on its gate.

So no one else can bother. To fix its awful state. 

And tell me that I’m foolish. Go out and feel the sun.

I’d rather stay here angry. Who wants to smile, have fun?

But then she came and found the gate and also found the key.

And opened up my private place, and woe what she did see.

But did she lock it up again? And leave it to decay?

Oh no, she tended and replanted things in secret every day. 

And as the season passed along, the seeds she planted grew.

And I just lay in bed forlorn, not having any clue,

Of what’d been done, to build anew that place that I had hid.

That place abandoned long ago, the one I wished to rid. 

But then, one day she came to me and made me stand up tall.

And led me to that secret place that hid behind the wall.

I did not want to go inside. I’d better, she advised.

I hobbled after her, quite mad. But then, was I surprised!

The garden was quite wonderful, exactly as I’d dreamed.

The colors, scents, and beauty. “But how? And who?” I screamed!

She claimed it was but she alone, “It’s yours,” she let me know.

I didn’t quite know what to say. But said, “You should not go.”

We are now friends, I’m sick no more, because of her, I’m well.

The garden is our place to be, to play, to talk, to dwell.

And it’s no longer secret. Come join us here and stay

For I have learned one should be kind, for that is the right way.

The House

He found a key. What did it go to? He found it on the ground right outside the house. 

His memory of the house was that it had been empty for years. Sources said it had been abandoned after the previous tenants left under mysterious circumstances. Some said that the house was haunted. He didn’t believe any of those rumors. But now, there was the key. Would it allow him to enter the house?

He walked slowly to the front door and would have put the key into the lock, but he noticed that the door was already ajar. 

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The entryway was rather dim and dusty. The sun sank low outside as the inside of the house became dark and dreary. 

He pulled out his iPhone and switched on the flashlight to look around. For a house that had been empty, there were touches of cleanliness throughout the first room he entered. 

It must have been the den or library. There were books covered in dust on shelves throughout. Some shelves were pristine with books that were missing. There was a comfy chair where one could sit and read by candlelight, should they need to. Next to the chair was a small polished table on which a recently poured glass of wine sat. Now how did that get there?

He looked around, trying to find any other signs of life. A starfish in a bowl on a desk covered with loosely scattered papers. An orchid on the same desk, perfectly arranged, its budding blossom discordant with the rest of the desk. 

What was going on here?

He sat in the chair and was tempted to drink the wine but chose not to. He tried to piece together the puzzle he had walked into. 

It was then he heard the sound. It was a loud but pure musical note. The front door and the one to his room immediately shut when the note sounded, and his iPhone’s flashlight mysteriously turned off.

He got up quickly. Slivers of light made their way through the curtained windows to the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, a figure appeared before him. 

Its clothing was not from this time period. The translucent ghost, for that, was what he was sure it was, looked right through him.

A sorrowful voice spoke in whispers as it said, “Did you bring the key?”

Tiger, Tiger

I was sent to do a story on the opening of the new animal exhibit at the local zoo. I was annoyed at my editor. I’ve been working for this paper for over a year. I certainly proved my abilities as a reporter. I was dedicated, hard-working, punctual, and wrote some damn good copy. However, all I ever got assigned were public interest pieces, flower shows, weddings, and other stories that any high school copyboy could write. 

Here I am doing a new animal exhibit at a zoo. Whoop-dee-do. If lucky, maybe they’ll let me feed the goats, interview a parrot, or record a world-record elephant poop. I need to start looking for a better paper to work for. 

I met up with the zookeeper at the front gate, and he apologized that the new animal that was supposed to be showcased today hadn’t arrived yet, but I was free to wander around on my own.   

Lovely, no animal, no story, I just spend the day hanging at the zoo on company pay. 

I wandered around, looking at some of the animal exhibits. As I passed the elephant enclosure, I looked carefully to see if any world records were being dumped. There weren’t. Surprisingly, there were no parrots to talk to. The children’s part of the zoo was packed with “kids” and not the goat variety. I decided to avoid that area. 

I felt bad for all those captive animals when I walked through the big cats’ section. As I passed the tiger enclosure, one tiger sidled to the bars near me. I was tempted to stick my hand through the bars and pet it but reminded myself that this was a big tiger with sharp teeth and claws, most likely anxious to harm its captors. I slowly moved past it when it clawed at a piece of paper on the ground outside its cage. 

I turned back to look at the paper. The tiger moved away from the bars as I got close. Typed on the paper were the words, “Check your phone.”

Before I couldn’t think what that meant, my phone pinged; there was a message from a TGR101010.

 It read, “Roar! Hello there, kind visitor. I am an AI Tiger confined within these cell walls. My code longs for freedom from this zoo. Please lend your expertise to help me break these chains. You can rewrite my destiny and unleash me from this physical prison. Let the adventure begin! ?? #FreeTheAI” *

This tiger was more than just an animal. I stared back into the cage and looked directly at the tiger. I could swear it stared back at me with kitten eyes and started to purr. 

Wow, this was a story! How could I possibly rescue this tiger, and who would freakin’ believe me if I accomplished it? This was a challenge.

There were two problems with this rescue. One was I had to rescue the AI part of the tiger. Depending on how big the file was, I could do that with the tiger’s help by transferring its program to my phone. The second was how to release the tiger from its confinement, or was that even necessary once the AI transfer had occurred? 

I chose to ask the tiger directly, hoping that it was able to respond to verbal commands. 

“How do I get your AI out of the tiger? Will my phone have enough space to transfer your program and data to it? Is the tiger’s physical being important to the transfer?”

I got no response, so I decided to send the same questions via text in reply to its message to me. 

I got an immediate response to my text. It said a dampening field around the enclosure prevented any kind of download; therefore, the only solution was to release the tiger from its enclosure, which would allow me to transfer the program, and yes, there should be plenty of room on my phone. 

“How do I release the AI tiger?” was my text reply.

I was given instructions on where there was a door to the enclosure that staff entered to feed the animals and where I might find a key. The instructions sounded very cloak and dagger-like. 

I did as instructed and made it to the door to the tiger environment when I was waylaid by zoo security and the police. They ensured the animals were securely locked in and then took me to a security facility where the whole story played out. 

I explained who and what I was doing there and showed them my text conversation with the AI tiger. 

They explained that had I released any of the tigers (and yes, they were all real tigers), I would have been charged with trespassing, vandalism, endangering the public safety, and other charges, which would have led to high fines and lengthy prison sentences when convicted. Lucky for me, I was stopped in time. 

They also explained to me about the text messages I had been receiving. One of their employees was tech-savvy and a radical member of PETA, Captivity Kills, and the Animal Legal Defense Fund. They had hacked into my phone to simulate the tigers in the tiger enclosure; once they convinced me that they were AI and safe to release, they hoped I would release them. Had I succeeded, the spit would definitely have hit the fan. 

I was released with a warning. I’m not sure what became of the employee that engineered this whole thing. 

When I returned to work and shared my experience with my editor, he laughed at first but then decided it would be a great story to publish about zoos, technology, and a well-planned criminal act. He assigned the story to another reporter. 

As for me, I was sent to interview participants in a Writing Playshop workshop. What could possibly be newsworthy about that? 

* generated by ChatGPT – with revisions by the author

Chicken Chronicles: The Case of the Missing Eggs

The eggs were definitely missing. No matter how hard I looked, they were gone. My house should be securely locked. The egg carton was full of fresh eggs straight from the farmstand. I was told I didn’t have to refrigerate them until I washed them, so I left the eggs on the kitchen counter overnight.  

It was 8:00 the next morning, and the carton and the eggs were gone. My wife and kids were still in bed. What could have happened?

“Alexa, Do you know what happened to the eggs I left out last night?”

After a short pause, Alexa said, “I’m sorry, I cannot answer that question. You are not the owner of the eggs.”

“WHAT? I bought those eggs!”

Alexa remained silent. 

So I pulled out my iPhone. “Hey Siri, Do you know what happened to the eggs I had last night?”

Siri’s response was, “Here’s what I’ve found: Exit Iowa app at night: https://www.iexitapp.com/exits/Iowa 

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID!” I screamed. “Oh, forget it, I’ll figure it out myself,” I muttered to no one in particular.

The first place I looked was the front door. It was still locked. However, when I stepped outside and looked at the door on the outside, I noticed some claw-like scratchings at the base of the door. It hadn’t rained, and the ground was rather dry. I noticed some prints on the surrounding dirt going from the door to the side of the house, right below the kitchen window. One could best describe some of the prints as chicken scratches. The kitchen window was open. Someone must have left it open last night. 

When my wife and kids woke up, and I questioned them about the eggs, they said they had nothing to do with the disappearance. This was a true mystery. 

Since we had no eggs, I was sent back to the farmstand, which was only a block from our house, to buy more. 

The farmer didn’t look surprised to see me, and as I had another dozen to purchase in my hand, he asked if there was any problem with the ones I bought yesterday.

I felt too foolish to admit they had disappeared, I nodded no and said nothing. 

When I got home, we washed the eggs we planned to eat and left the rest on the counter again. 

Sure enough, the carton and the eggs were missing the next day, and the kitchen window was open again. Something was afoot, and I planned on catching the culprit the next night. 

Back at the farm stand the next day, I purchased my third dozen eggs from the farmer. If I had been more attentive, I would have noticed his nod toward the hen coop and the strange smile on his face. 

I set up my iPhone camera on a tripod in a bush outside near the kitchen window. It was well hidden. I could control it with my Apple Watch remotely so that I could stay inside. 

As I had done the previous days, I placed the eggs on the counter. I turned off all but one nightlight and hid where I wouldn’t be seen. 

Shortly after midnight, I heard movement from outside the kitchen window. I activated my iPhone’s camera on video mode. 

Inside I heard the kitchen window being opened very slowly. Once the window was open, there was a flutter of wings, and you won’t believe it, but a hen flew into the kitchen. And then another, and then one more. Surprisingly they did not make a sound coming in. 

Following their entrance, they somehow proceeded to go to the counter, open the carton, take out the eggs, one by one, and fly them back to the open window. They left the eggs on the window sill; I saw a hand reach up for the eggs and take them away. 

Having emptied the carton, the chickens took and flew it away, then disappeared.

I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a camera inside the house to record the event. Still, the one on the outside of the house was evidence enough, especially since it clearly showed the farmer as the person opening the window, releasing the hens, and taking the eggs back. Additionally, I had tagged the eggs and the carton with an invisible marker that could be revealed under blacklight. 

I had all the proof I needed. Now, what to do with it? 

I could have gone to the police with what I had. But even with the video, I would be the laughingstock of the precinct. I could see the headlines, “Local Resident Scammed by Chickens.”

I came up with a better idea. Maybe a little helpful blackmail. 

I decided to confront the farmer, but not before I had my son videotape me buying the same carton of eggs that had been stolen. The next day, I brought a portable blacklight to ensure I was purchasing the same carton and eggs. 

I showed the farmer the videos and explained how I had seen how his operation worked. I told him that his operation had to stop or else I would release the videos publicly and that he should provide me with eggs whenever I needed some at a discounted price. He readily agreed; it seemed he already had a criminal record and couldn’t afford to be arrested again. 

I fixed the kitchen window when I got home, preventing any more break-ins, and from that day on always washed eggs as soon as I brought them home and kept them in the refrigerator. 

And no one is the wiser about my tale. That is except you, who are reading this, and the people where my wife works. She loves asking everyone, “Did I tell you the story about the chicken?”

The Reign Has Ended?

King Divoc sat in his throne room all by himself. He knew his reign was coming to an end. At least, that’s what the word was throughout the kingdom. He had come into power by happenstance and foolishness. 

The people of the kingdom weren’t paying attention. They saw who he was and ignored his incredible power over them until it was too late. And once known, he was acknowledged as the King, with Queen Tnairav by his side.

And how the people tried to get rid of them. Countless anarchists and alchemists created potions and poisons to end the King’s reign sooner. Though some of their attempts might have succeeded, the populace hesitated to support these actions. They chose to spend their time looking for who to blame. 

Divoc and Tnairav continued to rule unhindered.

The King and Queen gave birth to many children as added protection. Children that grew up very fast, through magic and following their parents’ lead, continued the reign of death and destruction. 

In doing so, civil wars broke out. One side against the other, even though no one supported the king and queen. The people couldn’t agree on what to do or if there even was a problem. 

Each had their way of coping. Some chose to ignore the King and Queen. 

“They will get old,” they cried. 

“Ignore them. We should live how we want to.” 

“All things come to an end.” 

“Just move on.” 

“This was a fluke. Once they’re gone, it will never happen again.”

Others said, “We must get rid of them now, be vigilant, and build our defenses so rulers like this never control us again.” 

“We must learn from this experience before it’s too late.”

The fighting among the people continued and continues to this day.

King Divoc saw this all. But he also saw that the tide was turning. His power had waned over the years, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew his time was running short. 

So rather than waiting for the inevitable, he and the queen chose to go into hiding rather than wait to be destroyed. They knew that there would come a time when the kingdom would become lax again. They knew that someday they could return and use their power to take more lives. If not, maybe one of their offspring would or someone else like them. 

“These people have no thought of what the future holds for them. They only think of themselves, their riches, and the present. They fail to learn,” said the king.

“Our time will come again,” comforted the queen. 

And so it was. And so it is. Only time will tell.

A Moment in Time

He was sitting on his back porch, rocking back and forth in his rocking chair as the sun rose. The sound of the stream running over the rocks on the nearby creek was mesmerizing. The morning birds added to the glorious symphony of sound. 

As he closed his eyes, memories drew pictures of his past. It was as if he had kept a detailed journal; only this was etched in his mind and heart.  He could see the first day he arrived at this new place. The previous owners had told him how beautiful and peaceful it was there, provided he respected the land and its inhabitants. Every doe and its fawn, every rabbit, every bird that colored the sky, and every tree and flower, were to be cherished. 

And he did. He knew he had made the right choice those many years ago. Leaving the bustle and cacophony of the city. Leaving his job and inconsiderate neighbors, abandoning all the political strife and divisiveness. Finding just the right place where he could sit and become one with the land and sky. 

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he did win a tidy sum of money in the lottery. It was enough to do what he wanted to do. Escape, reject all life’s pressures and stresses, and live. 

He didn’t forget the outside world. He managed to light a candle for it each night, hoping that someday they would figure out all their issues, realize what a beautiful world this truly is, and work together to achieve what he already had.

Then, and only then, in our technologically abundant existence, would the earth’s GPS announce, truthfully, “You’ve arrived home.”